


Postcards

by Goodbyemyfancy



Category: Jumper (2008)
Genre: Death Threat, First Kisses, M/M, Reconcilation, Swearing, angry Griffin, depressed David
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodbyemyfancy/pseuds/Goodbyemyfancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David left Griffin behind in Chechnya, and now had to live with the consequences.  Set directly after events of the film.  A series of postcard communications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chechnya

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Postcards TRADUCTION](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749616) by [Sayuria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayuria/pseuds/Sayuria)



> Now available in French! Thank you to the wonderful Sayuria for translating this story and gifting it to me!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2749616/chapters/6163886

David had just come off a nasty fight with a Paladin who had found him while he was sightseeing in Dubai, and though he had won, he was left physically and mentally exhausted and battered. The American jumper staggered down the hall towards his new apartment, the first one he had secured after Roland destroyed his last in New York a few months back. It had taken him weeks to safely find a new home that he was pretty sure the Paladins had not traced, taking into account all the knowledge he had acquired during his partnership with Griffin about staying off the grid.

Griffin. David’s shoulder sagged in depression as he thought about his betrayal of the only person on earth who could understand him, the one person who he trusted. And yet when everything started to fall apart, David only thought to save himself and Millie. He didn’t even have the decency to kill Roland when he had the chance, something that would have made Griffin happy. Instead, he had left Griffin to fend for himself. Actually, he left Griffin to die. And every day he had to live with that.

And the consequences? Millie left him because of the extreme guilt he carried, the Paladins were aggressively pursuing him for threatening the life of Roland, and even his mother was no longer protecting him. And Griffin was gone.

It took a few seconds for his tired brain to register the postcard taped to his front door. An old faded postcard with two men standing with a loaded down mule, a few words of Russian along the bottom. David stood there uncertainly, chewing his lower lip. Checking the hallway in all directions, David reached out and carefully peeled the postcard from his door and flipped it over to begin reading the carefully small printed text.

__  
TO: Mr. David Asshole Rice  
ADDRESS: Planet Earth 

_You fucking ass. Seriously. YOU. FUCKING. ASS. You beg me to help you and then you abandon me to die in Chechnya in the midst of a war zone? All for what? Millie? Love? Was it worth it in the end? You never even checked to see if I survived. I know because after I got free from the cables, I hung out for a month to see if you’d come back and you never did. I hate you so fucking much. You’re worse than the Paladins. They want to kill me because I’m a Jumper and it’s part of their Holy War. But you – you’re a Jumper and you betrayed me, me – one of you own kind, probably the only other Jumper alive on this planet. I actually thought you were my friend. You ass. You donkey. You wanker. You fucker. You’ve got a new war on your hands and I’m the enemy. You think you can survive against me? You’re in deep shit now, and that’s literally, not just figuratively._

There was no signature but it was obvious that it was Griffin. And he was perfectly right to call out David this way, entitled to his anger and hate and need for revenge. And for all the words cut at David’s broken heart, at least he now knew that Griffin had survived and was still alive out there somewhere. David shook his head, sorrowful tears starting to pool in his blue eyes as he opened the door to his apartment.

As the wretched scent hit his nose, his eyes began watering frantically and David started choking at the noxious smell engulfing him. Trying to walk towards the kitchen to get some tissues, the footing under David’s feet went slippery and he skidded a few feet before he spectacularly wiped out and landed painfully on his butt. Wiping at his eyes frantically and keeping his nose covered with his shirtsleeve, David finally managed to get a good look at his new apartment, and groaned in sheer disbelief at Griffin’s handiwork.

Every surface of David’s home was covered in layers upon layers of horse shit. And probably donkey shit, mule shit, zebra shit, and every kind of equine feces from around the world. Mounds of steaming fresh wet droppings, piles of what appeared to be balls of dried old white dung, his newly painted walls repainted in a disgusting green-brown that was oozing downwards thanks to gravity, pools of liquid sludge … David turned away, gagging and trying not to vomit before realizing he was already completely covered in manure as a result of his fall. His spontaneous addition to the chaotic disgusting mess was barely noticeable.

Sitting there alone, David felt relieved about one thing. Griffin could have very easily set things up to kill David the minute he walked or jumped into his apartment. Given his arsenal of weapons, his training and his out-of-control paranoid emotions, Griffin had let him off pretty easy. Then again, David had played Chess, Checkers and Go with Griffin and those supposedly easy opening moves were always the first in a very long and progressively nastier battle that had Griffin ultimately winning. This did not bode well. David sighed, trying to work out whether he was better off abandoning the place as is, or cleaning it up before taking off to find a new safe house. Relatively safe, that is. Because one thing was for sure, Griffin was tracking him as an enemy target, and Griffin’s enemies always lost in the end.


	2. Dublin

It was a very good thing that David had walked into the woods before his jump, instead of being somewhere near the public. Because never in his life had he tried to jump and have it fail. As it turns out, when a jump backfires, you wind up right back where you started, only feeling like you were run over by crazed herd of elephants on speed who decided that skull stomping was especially fun. David rolled around the mossy forest floor with his head between his hands, shaking and screaming from the pain and wondering what the hell just happened.

After Griffin wrecked his last apartment a few weeks back, David decided to go rural and set up in the mountain ranges of MacGillycuddy's Reeks in Ireland. He had hoped that Griffin might cool off a bit if David went low-key, and given how his former friend had always looked down on him in contempt for being materialistic, he decided to try out having a lair again. His earliest attempt was a disaster – couches and small uneven cave floors don’t mix – but he spent a lot of time building his new natural home from scratch.

He took what he had learned from Griffin about living away from civilization and being self reliant, and slowly over time, David had managed to build himself a decent functional living space. It was minimal and basic – concrete floors and metal shelves and an outdoor shower and a twin-sized mattress (ok, so he did get a high-end memory foam mattress and Egyptian cotton sheets but getting a proper sleep was important). It was a bit silly, but he felt some comfort when he was at home, because it reminded him of Griffin’s lair and when things were good between them. It also served as a reminder of what he had lost by deciding to abandon Griffin, a decision he regretted every moment of his life now.

After all this intensive and back-breaking labour, today was the day David had finally felt his home was utterly complete and needed no further work. So he jumped to some park lands outside of Dublin and went shopping for a few niceties as a treat to celebrate his new place. It was when he returned to the woods to jump back directly home that he was bounced back and now found himself in hellish agony.

After an hour or so, the pain finally started to become more tolerable and David was able to stand without feeling like he might black out. He slowly and agonizingly collected his purchases of the day back into the bag, and with a deep breath, envisioned the grassy knoll near to the opening of the caverns. This time he jumped with no problems.

Well, there was one problem. The entrance to his cave was gone. In fact, most of the mountainside seemed to have slid down leaving boulders and huge chunks of stone littered all over the place. Which made no sense because he has spent a lot of time researching the safety of the mountain range and exploring the underground cave system and selecting an area that was stabilized.

The tall jumper stood there with his small shopping bag, wondering what had happened in the two hours while he was away. And then he saw the small paper envelope nailed to a wooden stake sticking out of the ground in a cleared area near what used to be the entrance. With a sinking heart and a feeling of dread, David walked over and pulled the stake out of the ground. Sure enough, in the envelope was a letter accompanied by it another postcard, this time of Dublin. It was not addressed to him, but given the circumstances, David knew Griffin had found him again. And standing there alone, he read the hand printed words slowly, hearing the all too familiar bitter hostile voice of sarcasm echoing his mind.

_You fucking thought you could build a LAIR? A LAIR!? Lairs are MINE, you idiot insensitive fucking asshole. At least your last place was typically you with your obsession with consumer culture. This time you decide to try and steal who I am, how I live, take from me what makes me a Jumper and as a fighter? FUCK. YOU. My LAIR is ME. You aren’t me and you never will be and building a lair makes me hate you even more. And I didn’t think that was possible after Chechnya. But watching you build a fucking lair the last few weeks took me way past hatred and into a new level altogether._

_Guess you never knew that jumping somewhere that doesn’t exist really messes with you as a Jumper. I must have “forgotten” to tell you that piece of information while we were together. Your jump didn’t work because your fucking lair is no longer in existence. You know - destroyed. Demolished. I patiently waited until you finished the bloody thing, and then went about wrecking it today. You couldn’t jump back because the caverns are gone. The interior is filled with concrete and gravel and garbage and whatever else I could jump to fill in every single bloody inch of your space. And then I blasted the front so that the whole mountain was changed._

_You don’t get a lair, David. You don’t get a home, you don’t get to own things, you don’t get to rest, and you definitely don’t get a break because I’m following you and everything you hold precious I’ll destroy. And once I’ve destroyed everything around you, I’m probably going to kill you. Simple enough, mate? You crossed the line and if I was your enemy before, I’m enemy number one from here on in. Forget Roland and the Paladins – I’m the biggest threat. And face it, you KNOW I’m better than you are._

_If you don’t want to die immediately, stay away from me. Get that? And right now, Dublin’s mine. Actually, make that all of Ireland. You’re a bloody American, so go back to Yank-land and live with all those other assholes. God, I’m so fucking angry I’d kill you on sight if I saw you in person, so it’s best if I don’t._

Tears rolling down his face, David ripped the envelope from the wooden spike, slung the shopping bag of now meaningless items from it instead, and jumped, leaving mess of jumprot behind in his wake.  
____________________________________________________________

A half mile away, Griffin stood up from where he had been laying camouflaged in the higher meadow grass and lowered his binoculars. He had seen the raw emotions cross over David’s face as he read the postcard: pain, despair, fear, loss. He thought he’d feel right smart seeing David’s life get ripped away again, but witnessing those private emotions, those tears, left him uncomfortable as he strode over to where David had jumped.

For a few minutes Griffin glared at the plastic bag that hung from the stake, arm crossed tightly. It bothered him that David felt settled in and relaxed enough that he bought himself some treats – sure as fuck Griffin never had much in his life in the way of treats and luxuries. And then he finally got curious and opened the plastic shopping bag.

Looking at the packs of crisps that David had bought, Griffin simply stood there, the bags shining silver under the sun. They were proper British crisps, the really awful flavours that Griffin loved – and that David could never stand, complaining with a laugh every time about their bad scent and taste. Reaching out to gently pull at the plastic handles, a very soft, “Oh David,” ghosted over his lips, and what might have been a glimpse of regret flashed in his blue eyes, and then Griffin was gone.


	3. London

Griffin stomped around the Kew Gardens, unsuccessful in his attempt to enjoy the plethora of gardens and flowers and herbs on one of the rare sunny days in London. He was trying his damnedest to not think about David, which was always difficult when he was in the city of London and could see the bloody clock tower that he knew was one of David’s favorite places to hang out. In fact, the reason he fled to the Royal Botanical Gardens was because everywhere he went in London, he could see that stupid tower and as a result, could not stop thinking about David. And thinking about David made him crazy still – sheer rage and anger mixed with a hidden sense of loss and a touch of regret.

Griffin stood staring across the gorgeous landscape stretching out for acres, hands in the pocket of his leather jacket and occasionally kicking at the perfectly groomed grass underfoot. He had thought that being back on his own and responsible to no one but himself was what he truly wanted, but every time he saw David, he knew that his old life prior to David’s arrival was no longer satisfactory. Up until he had David in his life, he never knew what he had been missing out on it terms of friendship and a sense of connection to the world. And then David had fucked it up, left him for dead, left him for Millie, even left Roland alive and Griffin couldn’t cope.

He knew that stalking David was making things worse, but Griffin was unable to let go and move on. He felt an obsessive need to know every minute of David’s life, and destroy anything that gave David the slightest bit of pleasure. He had thought that tearing apart David’s life and denying him a home, a place of safety, would be rewarding, but really, it was making him morose. He wanted David to realize and experience his rage and hurt, and at this point, David was living in fear, waiting for Griffin to appear out of nowhere and kill him. The thing was, Griffin didn’t want to actually kill David anymore, but what he did want from David was now an unknown.

Tired of thinking, tired of feeling, Griffin glumly thought of his favorite tree in Hyde Park and jumped. He figured listening to the various lunatics and activists at Speakers Corner would get his mind off David and his unresolved emotions about David’s betrayal. For a rare change, Heiko Khoo wasn’t around, sharing his thoughts on Marxism and the current global economy. Instead, Griffin listened to a range of speakers, his brooding thoughts finally turning away from David as each speaker made more and more outrageous arguments for their personal cause. After about an hour, his thoughts were totally off David and focused instead upon making fun of the speakers and challenging their arguments. Griffin always enjoyed heckling.

As a result, Griffin nearly jumped by accident when someone suddenly tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket, seeking his attention. He turned, ready to snarl at whoever had the nerve to approach him, let alone touch him, when he looked down to the small boy who was standing quite still, looking up at him. Softening his glare, Griffin caught the boy’s eye and asked abruptly, “Yeah kid? What do you want?” Figuring the child was looking for a handout, Griffin was startled when the boy solemnly handed over a postcard featuring the London skyline at sunset. “Some guy who said he used to be your friend gave this to me to give it to you.” Griffin looked around wildly but stopped as the boy added politely, “He’s already gone, sir. He gave this to me about half an hour ago and told me to wait before giving it to you. He was very nice and even gave me 5 pounds and told me not to be scared of you.” The boy nodded and with a small smile said, “I don’t think you’re scary though. I like your jacket. Oh – and he also told me to tell you that he saw you by accident today.” Griffin had no idea what to say, so he just mumbled a rough “thank you and here – go buy some treats,” and handed over some crushed notes he had stuffed in his pocket.

The child walked off smiling, but Griffin was already in the process of moving quickly away from the crowd so that he could jump and get back to his lair. There was no way he was reading this in public, that was for sure. Within minutes, he was sitting on his couch, jacket thrown on the floor, turning the postcard nervously over and over in his hands. David hadn’t contacted Griffin at all since Chechnya, and the postcard had on it David’s first words to him in months and months. Taking a deep breath, Griffin turned the card to read what David had written.

_I’m not following you, honestly! Please don’t get mad at me for this postcard, even though I know you’re already angry as hell. I’ve never sought you out and I’ve never been back to Ireland, just as you told me. I saw you today by accident when I was in the park, and while I could have simply taken off and you might not have known I was near, I need to say something to you. I know I’m taking a risk but I feel sick and guilty all the time._

David’s writing was awful. The inked words were small and nearly illegible, and many were blurred as if water had come in contact with the paper. It was as if Griffin could smell and feel the pain and fear and hurt David was exuding as he wrote down his thoughts. In fact, as Griffin stared at the scrawled mess of words, he came to the realization that David must have been crying as he wrote. Griffin read on, his hands shaking a bit as he held the postcard.

_  
I’m just so incredibly sorry. I know saying it makes no difference to you, but I feel wretched and miserable for how I treated you. There’s no excuse for what I did, and I understand why you want to kill me. I fucked up and let you down in so many ways I can’t even forgive myself. You were the only person who actually understood me, experienced life the way I did, and I destroyed what we had. I should have gone back for you, and instead I ran away. I’ve regretted that decision every moment since. When you do decide to come for me, I won’t fight you. I deserve it for what I’ve done. I know it’s not revenge, it’s justice._

Griffin sat back, staring blankly at the postcard as he tried to sort out his feelings. He knew he should be intensely angry, filled with thoughts of vengeance, because that’s how he had felt every day since David left him tangled in electrified cables, screaming in pain and terrified he would die. But from watching how David fell apart these last few months, Griffin knew that David’s words were honest and heartfelt. Every time Griffin attacked and destroyed David’s life, David had sunk lower and lower into depression. Griffin had seen David become more withdrawn, isolating himself from the world even further each day.

When Griffin had last checked in on David a few days back, he was living in a destitute boarding house in the worst part of Detroit, a small barren room with nothing reflecting David’s presence. No material goods, especially no brand name consumer products. Just a small rickety bed with basic linens, and a closet with a few items of clothing. When Griffin had broken into David’s room to check in on how David was living, he was shocked at the minimalism of David’s life. The American jumper didn’t even seem to have cash on hand, unless he was hiding that elsewhere. And each time Griffin caught a glimpse of David out and about, he looked physically worse – losing weight, his skin sallow in appearance, black circles that were deepening around his eyes.

It was a long time before Griffin finally stood up and walked over to his wall of photographs, drawings and postcards. Staring intently for a few minutes, he finally reached out and unpinned a single postcard from the wall. Walking back to the couch, he sat and stared at the blank message side before finally sighing and putting his pen to paper, began writing.


	4. Niagara Falls

Another day fending for himself, another day alone wondering if this was the day Griffin would appear and kill him. David sighed to himself, shoulders hunched and head down as he sloshed through the rain, his feet soaking wet from the holes in the soles of his boots. All in all, a miserable day in a long series of miserable days. After Griffin’s brutal attack on his cave in Ireland, and the last postcard from Griffin saying he was going to kill him, David felt fear and terror. But as the days passed without anything happening, he sunk lower and lower, feeling more depressed at how his life had turned out because of his own stupidity. It had gotten to the point where David just wanted the waiting to end and have it over and done. When he gave the postcard for Griffin to the boy in London, he thought that Griffin might be provoked enough to react but nothing had transpired.

David had already stripped off his wet jacket and taken off his sodden boots before he noticed the small but familiar postcard shape lying on his bare wood floor, evidently stepped on when he had first walked in. He sat down heavily on his bed, the springs squeaking in protest, staring at the postcard as if it were an alien artifact. His feelings were all charged up, a mess of fear and curiosity and shock – but mainly relief. From where he sat, it looked as if the postcard was from Niagara Falls but where exactly he wasn’t sure. Finally gathering the courage, David moved and slowly picked up the mud-splattered postcard, wiping off the front to confirm it was Niagara Falls, specifically the Horseshoe Fall on the Canadian side. Closing his blue eyes for a few minutes and taking several deep breaths, David finally turned the card over to read what Griffin had left. Much to his amazement, the message side was nearly blank, with only a few short terse sentences.  
 _  
I got your postcard in London. Cute boy you picked to be your messenger. I gave him some money as well. Good haul for him._

_Meet me at the Queen Victoria Park on the Canadian Side of Niagara Falls near the platform closest to the China Rose Garden. July 12th at 7pm. It’s time._

David dropped the card and threw himself across his bed, face down, tears already welling up and spilling down his face and soaking into his ragged pillow. Finally everything would be over. He sobbed and wept until he passed out from exhaustion.

______________________________________________________________________________________

It was July 12th and the evening sky was still bright when David arrived in the city of Niagara Falls. He had spent the intervening time giving away everything he owned, anonymously donating what cash and reserves he had left, until all he had in his possession were the clothes on his body. He had felt relief and fear non-stop since the postcard, but in his heart David was glad he’d be able to see Griffin face to face one last time. He still needed to apologize in person, and he hoped Griffin would give him the time instead of just killing him on the spot.

After a few minutes of walking, David found the platform that Griffin chose as their meeting location. He was the first to arrive, so he stood watching the waters rush past, taking a bit of joy in how alive he felt after weeks of depression. It was his last day, and everything seemed so heightened – every sense was stimulated to the point of overload. The scent of the roses, the changing colour of the sky as dusk fell, the sound of the water, the feel of his clothes against his skin, the chill from the mist making the hairs raise on his arms. He leaned against the metal rail barrier and lost himself thinking back upon his life and remembering some of the better experiences he had. All in all, it was a beautiful time and place to die.

“You asshole.” The voice was unmistakably Griffin’s – sarcastic and cold and exuding anger. David turned around slowly to face his one time friend, their first time together in person since Chechnya all those many months ago. Griffin hadn’t changed one bit. He stood there with his arms tightly crossed, his leather jacket a bit shiny from the damp air. A black t-shirt, low cut black jeans and combat boots; nothing new in his attire. And that all too recognizable messy mop of hair, streaked chocolate brown with blonde. It was as if time had reversed itself. Even the murderous scowl Griffin was shooting at him felt comforting in its familiarity. His voice locked and tight, all David could manage in reply was a nod to the British jumper.

In response, Griffin twisted his lips scornfully and launched right into a rant. David never broke his gaze from Griffin’s as the smaller jumper spewed out months of anger and rage and pain, a near continuous stream of swear words and condemnations of David and his betrayal that lasted nearly ten minutes. David felt lightheaded, nearly faint, listening to the clear hurt that underscored every word Griffin screamed at him.

He watched as Griffin stepped closer and closer, his hands dropping to form into tight fists, the intensity of his anger turning his face bright red. Griffin stopped when he was about 2 feet away from David, within striking range, his spit hitting David’s cheek as he hissed out the last of his litany of faults and failures that were done by David. When his words ran out, Griffin stood there, panting and sweating, the pulse in his neck throbbing visibly, his eyes cold and black and hostile.

When David said nothing, choosing to stand and await his fate, Griffin hauled back and slapped David so hard across the face that David saw stars and fell a bit to one side. He could feel the heat of where he was hit, his face blossoming in pain. “You fucker,” Griffin suddenly yelled. “What do you have to say for yourself? How could you abandon me after all we’d been through?”

David carefully stood up, not breaking eye contact with Griffin. His eyes were watering and his voice sounded shaky even to him as he started to apologize.

“Griffin, I’m sorry. I know I said it in my postcard, but I wanted to say it to your face – that’s the least I could do after fucking everything up between us. There’s no excuse for what I did, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just need you to know that I’ve regretted my actions ever since I abandoned you. I could try and give you reasons and explanations but it all boils down to the same thing. I’m fucking stupid and uncaring and wasn’t thinking throughout the fight, I was just reacting based on fear. I never should have left you. I’ve made so many awful mistakes, starting with Chechnya and ever since then. I didn’t realize just how much you meant to me, how much our friendship meant, how much I needed you in my life until you were gone and all I had left was an empty hole. I should have gone back, I should have tracked you down, I should have apologized to you long before this. But those are all should-ofs that were never done. I fucked up big time, and then kept fucking things up even more. I wish … I’m sorry. That’s what everything boils down to. I’m sorry for everything and you’re right to hate me. I came here hoping I could tell you I was sorry before you killed me. Thanks for letting me.”

David was crying so hard by the end he could barely form the words he needed to say. He tried to keep looking at Griffin but he couldn’t even see anymore because of the tears that filled his eyes and streamed down his face. So he looked down at his feet and wept, waiting for the end. Griffin’s expression hadn’t changed from the time David started speaking, but at least he had been able to directly apologize.

When Griffin’s arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down into a deep hug, David started weeping even more, his body heaving with huge sobs. It took several minutes for him to realize that Griffin was holding him tight, not letting him go as he whispered in David’s ear over and over again, “Shhhh David, it’s all right. Calm down.” David threw his arms around Griffin’s lean body, clinging to him in guilt as he tried to get himself back under control. He dribbled tears and snot into Griffin’s hair, but eventually started to settle down. He was startled back into reality when Griffin asked him carefully, his voice soft and hesitant, “You OK now David? Can we talk now that we’re both done freaking out?” David nodded silently, wondering why Griffin still needed to talk. Everything between them that needed to be said had been spoken.

Without letting go of his tight grip around David, Griffin murmured gently, “It’s all over David. I forgive you.” David started shaking his head in negation, but Griffin just hugged him even more closely. “Everything’s OK, David. Really, I forgive you. I’ve spent months hating you because you turned my life upside down when we met, and I had been without friends for years, and you were a jumper too. I thought we were a team, and when you left me to save Millie, I just so fundamentally hurt and fucked up I wanted you to feel the same – to be miserable and alone and back to being an outcast. I didn’t really mean any of my threats to kill you, but I did make them and for that I’m sorry. I never stopped watching you and I’ve seen you falling apart ever since Ireland. I thought it would make me feel good to see you suffer, but when I got your postcard I realized that my need to hurt you had gone overboard.” Griffin could hear his own voice start to quiver, and stopped talking, waiting to see how David would react.

After a few minutes of silence, the last few quiet sobs from David finally fading away, the taller jumper managed to pull back slightly to look down at Griffin. David’s face was all red and blotchy, and Griffin’s blue eyes were swimming with yet-to-be shed tears. With a very small voice, David asked, “So you’re not here to kill me? You actually forgive me? How can you …”

Griffin surprised them both by stretching up and covering David’s mouth with his own, cutting off David’s heartbroken words. He pressed his lips against David’s, gently moving them back and forth until with a deep sigh, David opened his mouth and let Griffin in. He tried to keep control at first, but all too soon Griffin was losing himself in the pleasure of touching and kissing. He kissed David in a frenzy, forcing his tongue into the wet warmth of David’s mouth. He sucked at David’s lush lower lip, scrapping his teeth against the sensitive skin and licking along the edges of his mouth. David slightly moaned, the sound caught in the back of his throat, and suddenly David’s hands were running up and down Griffin’s back under his clothes, touching and exploring the contours of his small but toned body. They instinctively moved closer, their bodies flush against each other as they made out, trying to express physically all their regrets and sorrow and guilt that had dominated both their lives for so many months.

Finally, as the last of the light left the sky, David broke off their kisses and said to Griffin softly, “So now what? What happens next between us?” Griffin grinned for the first time and pulled a crumpled hankie from his jacket pocket. Carefully wiping the remaining tears drying on David’s face, Griffin replied, his voice light, “Well, given how you’ve been living, I think first of all you should move in with me. We can take some time to relax and get ourselves back to normal. And then we work on being a team again, because regardless of our shit, the Paladins are still the real threat and they haven’t gone away. And no more apologizing or brooding about the past – we’re done with that and we’re back together.” At David’s tentative smile, Griffin took David by the hand and added, “We’ll figure out what being back together actually means later on. Right now, all that matters is that we have each other. Though I have to admit, I didn’t expect our showdown to turn into a weepy love-struck reunion.”

Before David could say anything, Griffin quickly said, “I’m glad that it DID turn out this way, David. I’m glad I kissed you, and I was happy and relieved when you finally kissed me back. So maybe we can head back home now, and cuddle on the couch and watch some DVDs. I’m exhausted as are you, and I think we’ve made enough of a spectacle of ourselves in public today.” David laughed out loud when he looked up to see a group of tourists standing nearby, pretending to examine the roses but actually watching them. Hand in hand, the two jumpers walked away waving goodbye to the astonished tourists as they disappeared into the darkness of the park.

**Author's Note:**

> Postcard Challenge (Jumperslash Community)
> 
> Griffin and David belong to Steven Gould and 20th Century Fox. I just play with them and return them only slightly bruised.


End file.
